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  • Title: Henry VI, Part 1 (Folio 1, 1623)

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
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    Henry VI, Part 1 (Folio 1, 1623)

    Enter Somerset with his Armie.
    2065 Som. It is too late, I cannot send them now:
    This expedition was by Yorke and Talbot,
    Too rashly plotted. All our generall force,
    Might with a sally of the very Towne
    Be buckled with: the ouer-daring Talbot
    2070Hath sullied all his glosse of former Honor
    By this vnheedfull, desperate, wilde aduenture:
    Yorke set him on to fight, and dye in shame,
    That Talbot dead, great Yorke might beare the name.
    Cap. Heere is Sir William Lucie, who with me
    2075Set from our ore-matcht forces forth for ayde.
    Som. How now Sir William, whether were you sent?
    Lu. Whether my Lord, from bought & sold L. Talbot,
    Who ring'd about with bold aduersitie,
    Cries out for noble Yorke and Somerset,
    2080To beate assayling death from his weake Regions,
    And whiles the honourable Captaine there
    Drops bloody swet from his warre-wearied limbes,
    And in aduantage lingring lookes for rescue,
    You his false hopes, the trust of Englands honor,
    2085Keepe off aloofe with worthlesse emulation:
    Let not your priuate discord keepe away
    The leuied succours that should lend him ayde,
    While he renowned Noble Gentleman
    Yeeld vp his life vnto a world of oddes.
    2090Orleance the Bastard, Charles, Burgundie,
    Alanson, Reignard, compasse him about,
    And Talbot perisheth by your default.
    Som. Yorke set him on, Yorke should haue sent him
    ayde.
    2095 Luc. And Yorke as fast vpon your Grace exclaimes,
    Swearing that you with-hold his leuied hoast,
    Collected for this expidition.
    Som. York lyes: He might haue sent, & had the Horse:
    I owe him little Dutie, and lesse Loue,
    2100And take foule scorne to fawne on him by sending.
    Lu. The fraud of England, not the force of France,
    Hath now intrapt the Noble-minded Talbot:
    Neuer to England shall he beare his life,
    But dies betraid to fortune by your strife.
    2105 Som. Come go, I will dispatch the Horsemen strait:
    Within sixe houres, they will be at his ayde.
    Lu. Too late comes rescue, he is tane or slaine,
    For flye he could not, if he would haue fled:
    And flye would Talbot neuer though he might.
    2110 Som. If he be dead, braue Talbot then adieu.
    Lu. His Fame liues in the world. His Shame in you.
    Exeunt.